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Abracadabra, the monkey is now human. Evolution, nature's little magic trick, you look, but you don't see how it works, and then you sit there all bedazzled and stupid, clapping because it’s fantastic and you don't get it. Like with any trick, speed is of the essence. But there is a twist to this one. Slow motion. The slower she performs it, the less you follow. You'd need to live a million years to catch on to her. And she's been working on it, practicing it, refining it, performing it since life's dawn in single celled organisms till its awakening in human consciousness. And she's got another one up her lush sleeve: having us think that the trick is over. As though humans would never be transformed…
glimpse: WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE? | Knowledge isn’t always the answer. Ask any child about their favorite color, food, or animal, and they will shoot you a straight answer. The best reply you’ll get from an adult is a pause and boomeranging questions. We’re overthinking what can’t be thought. Feel it. My favorite animal as a child: penguin. Yours?
glimpse: STRANGER'S STRANGE | Visiting Agra is visiting the Taj Mahal. Fair enough. It is something to write home about. Ideally on a postcard. One with that marble marvel on it. But, if you do happen to bring some spare time, or better yet, make some, and if you invest it into Agra’s alley twists, you’re in for a spinnnn: at every corner another quintessential Indian cosmos, saturated with subtle, infinite clues to cultural lessons beyond Mughal architecture. A burning pile of trash. A donkey eating from it. Purple. Turquoise. A roller shutter house. Ads on trees. The local ordinary is the stranger's strange.
glimpse: THE LAST TUSK |
Just one more, we said. One more can’t hurt. Let’s take that one.
Just one more, we said, again and again.
Until one day, there was just one more.
Man emptying his convenience store
Walks into nature like a convenience store, grabs a bunch of animals and trees, a few liters of ocean, until the shelves are empty. see more
Caye Caulker / Inflate-Burst-Flux of a Clichéd Island Bubble
the bond of a moment’s fun
...not much of you or anybody else can stay there, too little the ripple, too constant the stream. A moment’s fun is the bond and doesn’t ask for any more or less... explore
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